Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (read aloud books .TXT) 📕

“Wait, Jennica — ”

As I approached Taryn, I could make out the expression on her face. She did not look happy to see me.

“Taryn?” My happiness at seeing my lady-in-waiting changed to uncertainty.

Something seemed odd about Taryn. Her face seemed fuzzy, like I was viewing her through a veil or a dirty window. Focusing on the layer of magic floating around her, I realized Beyan was right — Taryn looked like an exact copy of me. Instead of her usual blonde curls and bright green eyes, she stared back at me with dark brown eyes, her now-black hair piled high on her head. Even her heart-shaped, fair-skinned face had transformed into my own rounded olive-skinned features. Her true self was an extremely faint shadow underneath the skillfully crafted illusion.

Subtly, I tugged at the magic around her, trying to twitch it off or look for a weakness. It wouldn’t budge. My heart sank, knowing that during an event as momentous as a royal wedding, no one with magical ability would be close enough to Taryn to ascertain the illusion, let alone have the time to do anything about it.

No one, except King Hendon.

“Are you lost? Who is this Taryn person you’re talking about?” Taryn had never taken such a disdainful, haughty tone with me before.

“Taryn, stop playing. We need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not Taryn, whoever she is. I am Her Highness, the Crown Princess of Calia, and you should address me as such.”

I stared at Taryn in disbelief. “Taryn, what has Hendon done to you? Don’t you remember me at all?” I reached for her, but she recoiled in horror. “Taryn, it’s me. I’m Princess Jennica.”

Taryn blinked. For a brief moment, the arrogance in her eyes disappeared, replaced by confusion and a bit of recognition. “Jennica...”

I breathed a sigh of relief. She remembered me. It was going to be all right.

Taryn opened her mouth and started screaming. “Guards!”

Chapter Forty-Two

BEYAN AND I TURNED and ran down the corridor, leaving Taryn behind us screaming for the guards. It wasn’t long before we heard several boots running after us, and a gruff male voice yelling, “Stop!”

We had a good head start, but hampered by our heavy wedding finery, we would soon lose our lead. “Where should we go?” Beyan said.

“I have no idea!”

“It’s your castle!”

He had a point.

Passing my mother’s rooms, we skidded around the corner and kept running.

“Jennica!” Beyan huffed behind me. “We can’t just run back to the courtyard. They’ll catch us for sure.”

To my right were the doors to King Hendon’s rooms. There was the large ornate door that opened into the king’s bedroom; nearby was the smaller, plain door to the bedroom’s antechamber.

The guards’ footsteps echoed off the stone floor — they would be upon us soon. Frantically, I flung open the antechamber door, my relief palpable when it opened easily at my touch. Beyan crowded into the room after me, and I shut the door as quietly as I could in my haste, quickly reciting a spell to magically seal the lock.

The spell took hold just in time.

We could hear the guards outside, their voices muffled through the heavy wooden doors.

“Should we check the king’s rooms?” one guard asked.

Beyan instinctively reached for his sword, realizing belatedly that, per wedding protocol, he wasn’t carrying it. He reached down and pulled out a hidden dagger in his boot.

“You know you were supposed to turn in all your weapons!” I hissed into his ear.

“And aren’t you glad I don’t always follow orders?” he smirked in a barely audible voice.

The handle of the antechamber door rattled, but held firm.

There was muffled cursing from the guard who was nearest the door. “It’s locked. As is the other door.”

A second guard, a little further away, snorted. “If you want to break into the king’s rooms to search, be my guest. It’s your head.”

The guard by our room stepped away. “No, you’re right. They must have kept running, there’s no way they could have gotten through a locked door.”

Their footsteps echoed down the hallway as they continued their search. Finally, all was quiet.

Beyan said softly, “Good job on the locking spell.”

“Thanks.” I exhaled, trying to still my frantically beating heart. “Do you think it’s safe to leave now?”

“I think so, but let’s wait a little bit. Just to give them time to look around and give up for good. Do you think they got a good look at us?”

“I hope not. But if we could disguise ourselves, that might help.”

Turning to the curtained windows, I flung them open, sneezing from the dust that flicked off the curtains as I moved them. “Maybe we can find something in here while we wait.”

Sunlight streamed in. Outside, we could see the revelry continuing below. Inside, the light from the window angled across the floor, through an open doorway that led into the king’s bedroom.

Following the ray of light, I found myself staring through the doorway, drawn to explore the room beyond. Now that the danger had passed, another feeling had surfaced. Something in King Hendon’s room was calling to me. Something magical. Something... kindred.

Beyan was rifling through a chest, examining musty clothes and shaking out a pair of pants. Doubtfully, he held up a linen tunic that had probably been in fashion in my grandfather’s day. “If we can’t find anything else, I guess this will do.” He caught my mesmerized expression. “Uh. Princess?”

I didn’t respond as I followed my instincts into Hendon’s bedroom. The room was lush and ostentatious — much like its owner. I crossed the room to an ornate chest of jewelry, wondering if perhaps what I was sensing was Hendon’s ruby soulstone. But I found nothing unusual. Disappointed, I closed the chest, although I knew that Hendon wasn’t stupid enough to leave behind the soulstone he prized so highly.

Beyan appeared in the doorway between the antechamber and the king’s bedroom. His search had been successful. There were two short, hooded cloaks in his hands. “Jennica? What’s wrong?”

“I